


halfway

by mysterytwin



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I love them so much, M/M, Michael and Chloe Bonding For the Soul™, Mutual Pining, b99 inspired, mike has been pining over jer for years nothing can convince me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 16:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytwin/pseuds/mysterytwin
Summary: There’s a word in the Filipino language that means love.Pag-ibig. It’s falling headfirst with eyes wide open, opening your arms to embrace the fall. People always say that you can’t choose who you love, that sometimes the heart can’t help who they fall for.And Michael might think they’re right.





	halfway

**Author's Note:**

> english translations at the bottom! hope you enjoy!

There’s a word in the Filipino language that means love.  _ Pag-ibig.  _ It’s falling headfirst with eyes wide open, opening your arms to embrace the fall. People always say that you can’t choose who you love, that sometimes the heart can’t help who they fall for. 

And Michael might think they’re right.

 

* * *

Michael is fourteen when he realizes that he’s in love with his best friend.

It’s not a big thing, subtle enough for Michael to come into terms with it, but it’s something that’s had small moments leading up to it. Things like fingertips brushing, reaching out to each other in times of need, little stomach flutters he gets whenever Jeremy smiles at him, his heart skipping beats every time Jeremy looks at him in a way that gives Michael more hope than it should. Words like  _ “You’re my favorite person,” _ being said the first time around, little glances that has Michael blushing, and the soft look on Jeremy’s face that tugs on his heartstrings when he falls asleep after a video game. Moments like Michael’s fingers tangling themselves in Jeremy’s hair, the little forehead touches of reassurance, and Michael biting back his tongue to avoid his heart spilling out of his body. Things like that.

So when Jeremy smiles at him from under the stars on that chilly evening on his rooftop, Michael’s world stops spinning.

And he’s dizzy and his heart won’t stop beating because Jeremy’s eyes are soft, the small curls of his hair frame his face in just the right way to make him seem sweet and innocent, and the freckles on his cheeks are enough for anyone to make constellations. In short, Michael thinks he has never looked more beautiful. And his heart is beating and beating and beating and his chest feels like exploding.

Amidst all of it, Michael smiles back and takes it all in stride, swallows his heart back before it gets to jump out for the whole world to see—for Jeremy to see.

And of course, he’s in love with Jeremy. Maybe he has been for a while now, it’s just that he’s finally been able to put his feelings into words.

He’s in love with Jeremy. Jeremy, who has been his best friend since the dawn of time, who has stuck by his side even when the world was against him, who didn’t laugh when he got a horrible haircut, who played video games with him on school nights. His best friend, who stays and never leaves. 

He loves Jeremy.

And Michael takes another glance back at him, watches the wind blow past his hair softly, and sees the light smile on Jeremy’s face as he stares at the city lights before him. Jeremy has always wanted more of what they had, has always tried to reach the top when all he had was a flimsy rope to hold on to, has always wished to be something more than he already was.

Jeremy has always wished for a better life.

Then a pin drops, and Michael realizes that while  _ this _ may be something he wants, it’s not what Jeremy wants.  _ He’s _ not what Jeremy wants.

And he never will be. 

Because Michael isn’t anything more than Jeremy is, he doesn’t try like he does, doesn’t wait for someone to notice him and wave back. Michael isn’t the something more that Jeremy wishes for.

Michael has lived fourteen summers when his heart breaks in half. 

 

* * *

 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” 

Jeremy poses the question at him as Michael directs another hit onto an incoming zombie in the video game that they’re playing. It’s a new one, something Michael had spent his birthday money on. Apocalypse of the Damned; the name had sounded cool on the shelf and Michael considered it a double blessing that it was a two player game.

“Junior year? Bring it on,” Michael says confidently, casually, because all the years have sort of blended into one another enough for him to stop caring so much. It’s all the same, anyway. It’ll just be Jeremy and Michael against the world—against a teenage battle zone full of social climbing zombies. “Jeremy, look out!”

A bullet whizzes past the side of Jeremy’s character—Dave Norgenbloom, a middle-aged man with more guns than compassion in his heart (although with Jeremy playing, it didn’t really seem that way)—and Michael breathes out a sigh of relief when Jeremy moves just in time. His own character—Luigi, a man fond of pizzas and slushies—isn’t in the best shape, either. Level Three is kicking their asses repeatedly, and Michael’s starting to get irritated with it.

“Sorry,” Jeremy mutters, apologetic. 

Michael pauses the game to take a look at his friend. The lazy afternoon sun splashes through the windows, making his hair looking a little golden. It sticks out in different places, uncontrolled, but his eyes remain deep and blue as ever. Something inside him wants to just pull Jeremy close enough to wipe away the distressed look on his face.

“You okay, man?” he asks, and it’s a dumb question, he knows that, because Jeremy doesn’t look okay, but the words come out anyway. “Nervous about tomorrow?”

Jeremy nods after a moment. “I guess...I just want things to change, you know?”

And Michael  _ does  _ know. Because he’s been running around in a circle, living his life trapped in a carousel ride since the summer he turned fourteen; because he’s always going to be halfway closer to Jeremy right before he slips away from his fingers enough times to make close not close enough. Michael always has halfway more to go, and there’s nothing more than he wants than that to change.

But of course, Jeremy means something totally different.

“And things will, Jer,” Michael reassures him. It’s the only thing he knows how to do  _ right _ , anyway. “Just gotta give it some time. Who knows? Maybe you won’t embarrass yourself when teacher calls for a name call this year.”

“Ha ha,” Jeremy says dryly with an eyeroll. 

“Heere, Jeremy? Is Heere, Jeremy here?” Michael mocks in a high voice with a bad accent. He laughs, his head tipping a bit back. “It’s iconic. An absolute classic.”

“Yeah, I have an amazing last name, I know,” he says as he grabs one of Michael’s pillows and hugs it to his chest as he lies down on the bed. “I’d be lucky if anyone wanted to take such a stupid last name.”

_ I would. _

Back up, Mell. Too much. Gotta keep it cool. Chill. Pretend there’s no pining. No feelings that come close to romance.

Okay.

“Yeah, well, you know what? This year, I’m gonna make sure you don’t screw up when introducing yourself in front of class. Well, at least, in the classes we’ll have together,” he tells Jeremy, landing next to him on the bed. “I got you, Miah.”

“I hope we’ll be in more classes together. Last year sucked. We only shared two classes,” Jeremy remembers with a wince. 

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “It was terrible. Even worse than gym class.”

Jeremy turns his head to the right to face him. Their faces are inches apart, and Michael can feel Jeremy’s breath, ever so slightly. 

(Michael is walking on a tightrope and Jeremy is on the other side, not too far away.)

Jeremy blinks slowly, and his eyes are bright and blue when they reopen. Michael can’t seem to look away.

(One step in, wobbly and uncertain. He’ll get there. He has to.)

Michael’s been in this position before—has been close enough for their lips to touch for even just a second (but they never do)—and he’s starting to wonder if something different might happen this time around.

(He’s halfway there, so  _ close _ , just halfway more to go.)

Closer. Just a little bit  _ closer _ . Things might be different this time.

(Michael’s only one step away. He’s almost there—)

“Maybe I’ll even get a couple of classes with Christine this year.”

(Then suddenly he’s falling and falling and Jeremy watches from above, unmoving. Just like every other time before. Nothing changes. Nothing ever will.)

“Christine,” Michael croaks out. He can only offer a weak smile, averting his eyes from Jeremy’s gaze. “Christine Canigula. Yeah. Of course. Maybe you’ll even muster up the courage to tell her how you feel.”

Right. Christine. The girl Jeremy’s been in love with since freshman year. The girl who’s become Jeremy’s idea of change, of a better life. The girl who’s won Jeremy’s heart in more ways than Michael ever will.

He has nothing against her. She’s a ray of sunshine, and he knows that much. She’s light and happy—everything Jeremy deserves. Maybe Michael just wishes things were different, too.

“You really think so?” Jeremy asks—and he’s so damn hopeful it makes something in Michael’s chest ache. 

“Yeah,” Michael says, hugging a pillow to his chest tightly. Maybe it’ll help his heart from falling out of his ribcage. “Unless, of course, you decide to chicken out  _ again _ .”

Jeremy huffs and throws his pillow at Michael, who only laughs in return. “Jerk,” he mutters, but the smile on his face only betrays his words.

“Love ya, Jer,” he says with a cheeky grin as he ignores the fact that his stomach is fluttering and his head is spinning because Jeremy is smiling and that’s honestly all he wants. He deserves to smile like that more.

“No, but seriously,” Michael adds. “I’m sure if you did muster up the courage, Christine would definitely say yes. You wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re a great dude who shines like the sun and deserves every bit of happiness. You’re amazing and the best friend anyone could ask for. You’re cooler than a vintage cassette, and if Christine Canigula doesn’t see that, then she’s missing out.”

And Jeremy is beaming at him, grinning widely, and it’s making all of Michael’s jealousy and pain wash away in just a second. It makes his heart skip a beat.

“Thanks, Michael,” he says.

Michael shoots him a thumbs up. “Anything for you.”

And when Jeremy throws yet another pillow at him that can only be ensued by a pillow fight, he doesn’t know that Michael had meant each one of his words with so much more than he had let on.

 

* * *

 

When Jeremy takes the grey, oblong pill, he breaks Michael’s heart into fragments, the cracks fissuring open and bursting out. Michael’s not sure if he can put the pieces back together.

He’s not sure he wants to.

 

* * *

 

 

Mr. Heere shows up at Michael’s house the night of the play, and his eyes are brimming with curiosity and worry. 

“Do you love him?” he asks, and for a moment, Michael can only watch the smoke rise up from the half-burned ticket stub to their first concert.

“What?” The word comes out faster than his thoughts can organize themselves, but it only takes a fraction of a second for him to know his true answer. 

_ Yes. _

 

* * *

 

A boy in a hospital room sits next to a bed with an unconscious patient. He utters the words he would never say out loud, the words he would never say if his best friend were awake.

 

“ _ Mahal kita _ .”

 

* * *

Because this is what no one tells Michael while he sits in the hospital room: sometimes there are only so many words you can say to fill up the empty spaces, the cracks in between two hearts. 

  
Someone should’ve told him that his timer was ticking down, that his time with Jeremy could come to an end like this. Someone should have told him that there are only so many things you can do at once, only so many minutes that fill up an hour, only so many promises you can say to someone who might never come back. 

 

When Jeremy opens his eyes for the first time in three days, the only thing Michael can do is hug him and let the relief flood his body.

 

* * *

They talk.

They talk about the Squip and the bathroom and the insults and the abuse. They talk until the patchwork is almost finished, until they’ve mended all that they could possibly fix. They talk until they have enough words to fill up their bodies, and until there are enough apologies to last them a lifetime. They talk and they’re trying.

And sometimes it feels like  _ trying _ isn’t enough, but with the way things have changed, it’s expected. They both got what they wanted—things have changed around them, with them, between them—but never like this. There are cracks along a twelve year long friendship, and Michael can still outline them with his fingers. They’re visible, they’re there, like the scars that have etched themselves into the present. They’re a mismatched puzzle piece with too many missing parts.

Some things don’t quite fall into place anymore, but maybe that just means that it’s time for new puzzle pieces. 

 

* * *

 

More friends is something Michael Mell would never expect to have, but here he is, sitting at lunch with the most popular kids at school. Who would have thought, right?

Okay, so they’re mostly Jeremy’s friends, and since Jeremy’s  _ his _ friend, they’re sort of his friends, too. By default. They seem to tolerate him, so that’s okay.

And Chloe and Rich haven’t been the nicest people to him in the past, but Jeremy swears to him that they’re better people. And Michael wants to refuse to believe him, because they’ve said words he won’t ever forget to him before ( _ loser, freak, weirdo _ ), and he doesn’t fully trust them—but the way Jeremy had asked him if it was okay if they all sat together, the way he had looked at him pleadingly, big blue eyes and all, made Michael say yes. And dammit, he’s too whipped for this boy for his own good.

And hey, they don’t seem too bad.

Christine is nice to him. She doesn’t ignore him, so that’s a start. And she’d offered to hang out sometime to get a slushie and maybe go to an art museum or something. So. Michael couldn’t exactly say no.

And she’s dating Jeremy too, so there’s that. 

(And he didn’t fake happiness when Jeremy had told him he asked her out because he’d been genuinely happy for it. Jeremy deserved to smile and be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Jeremy deserved the world—and if the world is Christine, then so be it.)

Brooke is pretty cool, too. She likes listening to music as well, and asked for recommendations one time. She also brought him some yogurt from Pinkberry after she’d realized that he’d only ever been living on slushies and promised that frozen yogurt was way better. Michael wanted to argue with her, but he had to say that she was right. But slushies were still better, obviously.

And Jake—he was a good guy. He obviously had a thing for Rich and didn’t know it (there’s an odd similarity between the way Jake’s face turns pink whenever he’s around Rich and Michael’s own stomach fluttering every time Jeremy smiles at him), but that was none of Michael’s business. He told Michael he liked video games and would like to play some time. That was nice. 

Jenna Rolan was something else entirely. She’s a nice person when she’s not gossipping about other people (though Jeremy told him that she had issues relating to that, so Michael can’t really judge). So, yeah. She’s okay.

Things are okay.

Christine says something Michael doesn’t catch, but it makes Jeremy’s face go red. She laughs and Michael settles for a small smile. Jeremy turns to him and shoots him a look that he knows asks if he’s okay and he nods.

He’s going to be okay.

 

* * *

The hardest thing about all of this is that Michael knows he  _ shouldn’t _ feel this way about Jeremy. He shouldn’t like him, shouldn’t want to hold him close, shouldn’t want to kiss him—but he does. And if Jeremy ever finds out that Michael feels this way, he’ll never speak to him again. He’ll be freaked and weirded out for sure. And Michael doesn’t want that. 

But dammit, the way Jeremy is looking at him from across the hallway with a half-smile and a brightness around him that never seems to fade makes all of that wash away. The heart can’t help who they fall for, after all. 

“Hey, wanna hang out later?” Jeremy asks, his hands holding onto the straps of his backpack. Michael remembers the relief he felt when he’d seen Jeremy returned to the red backpack he’d helped picked out at the start of the year to match his own. The word ‘BOYF’ has faded with time, but it’s still visible. Michael’s ‘RIENDS’ remains the same still.

“I thought you and Christine had a date tonight,” Michael points out with one eyebrow raised, mostly because he knows that action annoys Jeremy since he can’t pull it off. And it works. 

Jeremy tries raising an eyebrow, but it ends with both upwards, making him look a little weird. A lot weird. Michael laughs. 

“You’ll get it one day,” Michael says teasingly, patting him on his shoulder. “Maybe as you lie on your deathbed, you'll finally be able to do it.”

Jeremy only rolls his eyes. “Anyway,” he says, steering the conversation. “Something came up for Christine, so we cancelled for tonight.”

“Oh,” Michael says. “Uh, sure, I guess.”

“I, uh,” Jeremy replies nervously between a half-smile and an averted gaze. “I missed hanging out with you. It’s been a while.”

“Oh,” he repeats, feeling like a broken record. “Me, too.”

Something is going on inside of Michael’s stomach, something warm that rises up to his chest at the idea of spending another afternoon with Jeremy after so much lost time. It bubbles out, filling up his lungs, and Michael can only manage a smile.

“I’ll see you at seven?” Michael asks as he shuts his locker. He catches a glimpse of Jeremy’s Pac-Man tattoo in the corner of his eye. He’s glad to see that it’s still there, that it’s not one of the things the Squip tried to wash away.

He knows about what the Squip used to tell Jeremy— _ everything about you makes me wanna die. _ He shudders at the thought of it, because Jeremy, out of all people, didn’t deserve to hear those words—he didn’t deserve any of it. So maybe he was being a dick to Michael when he ignored him, but  _ no one _ ever deserves to hear those words. Jeremy is the Sunlight, he’s bright and an awkward, stumbling mess that’s trying to learn how step out into the sun once in awhile. He doesn’t deserve that.

“Jer?” he asks again once he doesn’t respond. 

Jeremy blinks. He’d zoned out. Stammering, he turns red and says, “Yeah. See you. There. At seven.”

Michael laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

A part of him is glad things are mostly the same between them. Sure, there are still moments when it feels like the space between them no longer feels quite right as it used to, but things between them are slowly falling into place again. They’ve still got each other’s backs, and they always will.

Slowly, like the leaves falling down for autumn, the way things work between them click back into place like nothing’s ever happened between them. Things are still changing, the world is still spinning, but he and Jeremy stand still against it all, holding the other firmly. They stand and they stay. They look at the world around them, watching it form itself over and over again. The only constant thing is them. They stand still. 

While Jeremy walks away, Michael places his headphones over his ears, tuning out the world as another school bell rings in the distance.

( _ Ikaw ang kasama buhat noon, ikaw ang pangarap hanggang ngayon— _ )

 

* * *

Two months pass and Michael is halfway through solving his math homework when his phone buzzes from beside him. He scrambles for it, placing the pencil to his side and groaning in reply because this goddamn homework is going to be the _end_ of him. Jeremy’s picture flashes through the screen, and some pop song plays out loud as a ringtone. 

He slides the screen to answer. “What’s up, Miah?”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then—a soft sigh. A sniffle.

“Jeremy?” he asks into the phone. “Is something wrong?”

“Christine and I broke up.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

“I—uh—what?” Michael stammers because nothing really makes sense and Jeremy and Christine seemed to be doing pretty well, but then— _ what _ ? “I—I’m sorry, Jeremy, I—”

“No, it’s okay,” Jeremy says quickly, and it only leaves Michael even more confused.

Jeremy seems to pick up on that. “I mean, I’m bummed out, but it was kinda a mutual decision? Like, I’d been feeling kinda out of it, too, but a part of me still hoped we would work out? Because I’d been crushing on her for  _ years _ , and I guess I got carried away a bit. She was just this perfect thing, you know? And she  _ is _ perfect, but she’s a person, too. And I really liked her. But, I dunno, something changed? Christine said she still needed to figure herself out and that we were better off friends and she didn’t wanna rush in and ruin everything with romantic stuff. And I agreed. I still do. And, uh, so I guess. We broke up.”

Michael pauses. He’s confused, for sure, but now it means that Jeremy isn’t single anymore—

Stop. This isn’t about him. This is about Jeremy.

“Hey, are you okay?” he says because dammit, he’s a good friend before anything else. “I could come over and we could watch a movie. You can pick. You love  _ Titanic _ , don’t you?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Jeremy says, agreeing. “We’ve got some ice cream in the fridge.”

“Cool,” Michael replies as he stands up and grabs his keys from the table. “I’ll be there in ten. Don’t start without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeremy says before hanging up.

Screw homework. Jeremy needs him.

On the way there, Michael can’t help but think about what’s going to happen next. Jeremy and Christine were a pretty solid couple and they were cute together, Michael had to admit that much. What happened?

Okay, couples change their minds all the time. They decide they’re better off as friends and leave it at that. Christine and Jeremy did that. That’s normal.

And now that he thinks about it, just yesterday he’d been at the lunch table with Christine and Jeremy. Christine had said something to tease Jeremy, who’d only laughed in return—no blushing, no stammering, nothing. Jeremy had only turned to look at Michael and smiled, crooked and wide (but it was as sure as hell enough to get Michael’ stomach to flip). Something  _ had _ changed.

Okay, then.

An hour later, Jeremy’s dozing off halfway through  _ Titanic _ with an empty bowl of chocolate ice cream on his lap. His head lands on Michael’s shoulder somewhere along the line, but Michael doesn’t mind in the slightest bit. 

He seems to mind things less when he’s around with Jeremy.

He’s obviously been bummed out, even if he hides it well. That’s the thing about Jeremy: he’s an open book most of the time, but if you want to see where his emotions are at its rawest, they’re hidden in his eyes. And there had been pain in them when Michael walked in.

“I’m sorry about your break up,” Michael says softly.

He’s almost sure that Jeremy won’t hear him because the guy can sleep like a log, but his assumptions are proven otherwise when Jeremy mumbles out, “It’s okay. I still have you.”

“Yeah,” Michael whispers, trying not to blush too hard when Jeremy intertwines their fingers together. “You still have me, _mahal_.”

 

* * *

Jeremy still has his bad days, and Michael still tries to help him get through them.

Michael pretends not to notice that small, worried frown that wears Jeremy like a puppet on the days that just seem a little off. He ignores that small flinches whenever Jeremy slouches, like someone’s just about to shock him to straighten him up. He tries to act like everything’s okay when he catches Jeremy talking to ghosts he can’t see. He pretends Jeremy’s fine when he’s clearly not.

It had taken Michael only an hour of knowing Jeremy to figure out that his favorite ice cream was chocolate, but it had taken him twelve years to realize just where exactly his best friend was hurting.

And Jeremy doesn’t want people to see that his heart is lined with bruises and scars, doesn’t want to reveal that there are some wounds that still run deep. He doesn’t want Michael to know that sometimes his heart beat is still trying to sync up with the thumps of others.

But Michael knows this anyway, and when he sees that Jeremy is anything but okay on a Wednesday afternoon, he doesn’t hesitate too much (mostly because he knows he’ll back out in a second if he overthinks it) to take Jeremy’s hand and squeeze it tight. Hands linked underneath the table, warmth climbs up to block out the cold ache. 

Jeremy shoots him a small, soft smile, his eyes still weary but grateful. 

_ You don’t have to carry the weight of the world all by yourself,  _ Michael wants to say,  _ I’m still here for you. _

But these words never make it out, they die in his throat the moment Jeremy’s head lands on his shoulder—because there are some words he doesn’t need to say; there are some words that Jeremy can feel, words that can never beat the reassurance of two hands interlinked together.

And they’re enough for now.

 

* * *

It’s not common for Michael to find himself at a small cafe with Brooke and Christine, but then again, things have been changing way too fast for him to keep track. And things may be changing, but they’re all good changes, mostly.

And who would’ve guessed a couple of months ago that he, the antisocial headphones kid, would be sitting across two of the most popular girls at school? Definitely not him.

“Thanks,” Michael says gratefully as the waiter serves the cup of hot chocolate. It’s getting colder these days, and Michael’s not really feeling up for the bitter taste of coffee. “You guys don’t really have to do this.”

“Why not?” Christine asks. Her eyes stare at him intently as she takes a sip of her tea. She looks innocent enough. “We don’t hang out enough, Michael.”

“We literally went to a technology exhibit  _ yesterday _ , Christine.”

“It’s not enough!” she argues, huffing and crossing her arms. She bites her lip, obviously hiding something. “Besides, you and Brooke don’t hang out that much. So.”

“She bought me coffee, like, two days ago,” Michael deadpans. Brooke smiles at him sweetly—and Michael’s heard and experienced enough not to be easily fooled. Brooke is a sweet girl, she really is, but she also uses that to her advantage. Honey, hatchet, and all. “Come on, just tell me what’s up, guys.”

Brooke settles down her cup of coffee. Her features soften, and it seems as if all the sunlight just pours out of her. “We’re worried about you, Michael.”

“What—what do you mean?” he splutters out. He’s  _ fine.  _ There’s absolutely nothing about to be worried about. Right?

Christine stares with her fingers. She mumbles, “I know you like Jeremy.”

His eyes widen. No, no, no, no, no— “No, I—shit, I, uh—”

“And it’s okay,” Christine says with a soft smile. She looks like the sun, in a way, bright and comforting against dark tides. No wonder Jeremy liked her so much. 

“I don’t like Jeremy,” he manages to breathe out, his palms breaking out in sweat. He’s sure he’s red by now. “I mean, of course I like him, he’s my best friend, but I don’t like him like  _ that. _ ”

Brooke snorts. “Yeah, okay, if that’s what you say. I mean, it’s not like you look at Jeremy like he’s the only reason the world keeps spinning.”

“And Michael, I swear, it’s okay,” Christine reassures him. Her hand reaches for his across the table. “Jeremy and I are just friends now.”

Michael blushes. He doesn’t look at them in the eyes. “Maybe I do like him. There’s nothing you or I can do about it, anyway.”

“Uh, yeah, there is,” Brooke tells him. Her smile is wide, almost like she’s excited. “Mike, both Christine and I dated him. We’ve all liked him at some point, but there’s one difference between you and the two of us.”

“I’m a guy?” Michael offers weakly. He’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Nope,” Christine says. “Okay, maybe that does make us different, but that’s not the answer we’re going for.”

“Um? Well, uh, I’ve known him for a longer time?”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Brooke exclaims. Her arms are thrown up in the air. “You know how his brain works. You know all his favorite things. You know how to calm him down, how to make him feel better on his off days—you’re the  _ only _ one I know who can reassure him with just a  _ look _ . That’s a skill. You  _ know _ Jeremy.”

“You know how his heart better than anyone,” Christine finishes. “If there’s anyone who can find a way into Jeremy’s heart, it’s you. Don’t give up, you still have a chance. And I’m sure you have your own spot in his heart already. He cares about you.”

Michael’s skin is tingling. His head is spinning. Christine and Brooke are rooting for him. To be with Jeremy. If someone had told him this would be happening, he wouldn’t have believed it. He still doesn’t believe it. 

“I—uh. Thanks,” he says because he doesn’t know what else there could possibly be for him to say. “I really appreciate it. Are you guys sure you’re okay with it, though? Me liking Jeremy?”

“Michael, you’ve liked him longer than both of us have combined.” Christine smiles. “We’re okay with it. Promise.”

He can’t exactly argue with that.

“Now,” Brooke says, as she props her chin on the top of her two palms. “Jeremy mentioned once you took him to a skating rink. Can we go some time? I’ve always wanted to try.”

Michael grins. “Sure.”

This might not be so bad after all. Things are changing—for the better.

He just hopes it stays that way.

 

* * *

It does.

A year later and Michael still stands on a tightrope, but he takes one step closer to Jeremy with each day that passes. He doesn’t fall anymore.

 

* * *

 

Everyone knows that Jake Dillinger throws the best parties, but Michael has a little trouble believing that that’s true—especially after what happened at the Halloween party last year. But he’s at another one, anyway, because he’d been dragged to another one by his friends.

It’s already in full swing after an hour, and Michael’s finding it difficult not to get even the slightest bit tipsy. Jeremy, on the other hand, is another story. A lightweight, fumbling mess of a story. He’s already drunk and dancing everywhere with people he doesn’t even speak to. It’s actually kind of funny.

Michael watches as Jeremy and Rich make their way to one of the tables, dancing and nodding along to a pop song with a red solo cup in hand. He can feel the beat under his feet, thumping at him like a clock, ticking down to  _ something _ . 

Jeremy’s eyes find his in the crowd and he waves, beaming brighter than any of the lights in the room. Michael waves back, laughing to himself a bit.

He settles back to lean against the wall, his eyes still trained on Jeremy as he and Rich do an incredibly over complicated handshake (it still doesn’t beat theirs, but it’s pretty cool, too). 

“If you keep making heart eyes at Jeremy like that, you’re gonna give the whole game away.”

Michael turns to find Chloe Valentine smirking at him. In her hand is a bottle of wine, and she stares at him with one eyebrow raised.

“I—uh—um,” he stammers out. “I have no idea about what you’re talking about.”

Chloe and him had gotten to be better friends over the course of the last year, which was pretty good, considering she’d been a terrible all those years before. And she’s apologized at some point, too (during a Christmas party), so they were okay, for the most part. Not exactly likely friends, but good enough. 

“Seriously, Michael?” she says as she twirls a lock of her hair. “You’ve been in love with Jeremy for as long as I can remember.”

Michael stays quiet for a moment. “Is it that obvious?”

First it was Christine and Brooke. Then Rich, Jake, and Jenna a couple of weeks ago. Now, Chloe. Who else knows? 

(Hopefully not Jeremy. Michael likes to pride in the fact that he’s hidden his tracks so well that Jeremy wouldn’t be able to find them even if he looked for days.)

“No,” she answers, and Michael lets out a sigh of relief. Her gaze shifts somewhere else, a little to their left. Michael follows the trail, finding Brooke, smiling at the world with little care. “When you’ve got experience, figuring out who’s pining over their best friend is easy.”

“Oh,” Michael says awkwardly, his feet shifting. He places his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “When did you realize you liked her?”

“Freshman year. We were watching some romcom, I can’t remember, but Brooke was laughing, and I just—” Chloe smiles at the fond memory. “I guess it sorta just went downhill from there.”

“I wouldn’t call it going downhill,” Michael tells her. “You’ve still got a shot with her.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Speak for yourself, lover boy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael asks. “Brooke looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s been put on this planet.”

“And Jeremy looks at you like you’re the sun.”

“Yeah? Well, Brooke talks about you, like, all the time.”

“Jeremy never shuts up about your eyes.”

“She blushes every time you’re in the room.”

“He’s looking at you _ right now _ !”

Michael finds himself stumped. And when he does turn his head to the left, he finds Jeremy looking at him before turning away a split second later. It might just be Michael’s poor eyesight, but—is Jeremy  _ blushing _ ? No, it couldn’t be. It’s probably just the alcohol.

“I’m not what he wants,” Michael mutters.

Chloe places a hand on his shoulders. “But you’re just what he  _ needs _ .”

Her words takes him back to a night full of smoke, a night where a man with no pants had showed up at his doorstep and told him the exact same thing.

“Michael, you understand him better than anyone. You’re the best person at comforting him. Total sorcery, by the way. You’re his best friend,” she tells him. 

He wants to argue, wants to say that there’s no way in hell Jeremy would like him back (because it’s  _ true _ ), but something stops him. Maybe it’s the way Chloe’s eyes soften at his conflicted state, or maybe it’s the way she’s the best person to understand where he’s coming from.

“Look around, Michael. You’ve always waited for things to change around you,” Chloe tells him. “But maybe it’s time for you to actually do something about it. About him.” 

And Michael finds himself giving her a smile full of gratitude. “Thanks, Chlo.”

“Don’t call me that.” And suddenly, she’s back to regular, old, intimidating Chloe.

“What? Only Brooke can?” Michael laughs when she struggles for a reply. He’s about to say something else when he feels someone tap his shoulder.

He turns around and sees Jeremy.

“Hey,” Jeremy says. “I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to, um, maybe dance?”

Michael glances at Chloe for a brief moment, their eyes locking. Her words echo through his mind.  _ Look around _ .   _ Things are changing, and maybe it’s time for you to actually do something about it. _

“Yeah, sure,” he tells Jeremy, letting him get dragged away. He mouths a ‘thank you’ to Chloe, who only mouths ‘good luck’ in return. It’s a genuine smile playing on her lips.

They’re already on the dance floor when it hits Michael like a ton of bricks.

The song shifts and it’s a goddamn slow song that starts playing. A cheesy one at that, but still good enough. Not that it matters, really, because Michael’s heart is pounding over the beat of the song as Jeremy takes his hand and starts swaying.

Another thing Michael has always known about Jeremy: he’s not the best at dancing.

For someone who’s pretty good with theatre, there’s a lot more Jeremy could do to improve on with his dancing skills. 

They start out okay, neither bumping into each other. Michael can feel eyes on both of them, but he figures people are too drunk to care either way. Then they hit a snag, somewhere in the middle of the first verse of the song.

Michael winces. “How did you manage to step on both of my feet at the same time?”

Jeremy only smiles at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I. Uh. Don’t know how to do this.”

“Do you want me to, like, I dunno, actually teach you? Instead of just trying to awkwardly sync our steps? It could help speed things up, and my toes won’t be as bruised anymore — ”

“Yes, please,” Jeremy says, looking embarrassed, his cheeks turning pink. His words are the slightest bit slurred, but Michael doesn’t mind too much. This may be his one chance to dance with Jeremy, even if it’s under terrible lighting and with at a party.

“Okay,” Michael says. He looks at their feet for a moment, then back at Jeremy. “Okay. We’ll do this slowly.”

“Slowly sounds good.”

“Okay, so, uh,” Michael places his left foot back, “when I step back, you step forward. Not too hard, right?”

“We both know I have shit hand-foot coordination, right?” Jeremy points out. 

Michael rolls his eyes. He meets Jeremy’s own, only to find it’s full of nervousness. Softly, he says, “Hey, it’s not that hard, okay? I’ll count slowly. Just follow my lead, yeah?”

Jeremy nods. “Okay, okay, I got this.”

“You sure as hell do,” Michael reassures him. “Okay. One, two, three, one, two, three —hey, I think you got it!” He laughs, moving his feet a little faster.

Jeremy laughs along with him, the pink of his cheeks turning from embarrassment to happiness. It spreads along his cheeks, curving upwards the bridge of his nose. He looks like a kid, in a way, still full of life and so much more. His laughter is soft, and reminds Michael of days when things were simple. And honestly, there isn’t anything Michael give to hear his best friend laugh. 

Their feet move in sync, arms holding onto one another. Jeremy doesn’t stop beaming, mostly wonderstruck that he’s pulling it off. And Michael has to prevent his thoughts from lingering a little too long on how close their faces are because  _ god,  _ just a little closer and he could almost pull Jeremy into a kiss.  _ Almost. _

(And  _ almost _ has become one of his least favorite words in that moment, because there too many almosts with Jeremy, too many that Michael can barely even think straight. Because he and Jeremy are always going to be an  _ almost, _ always going to dance around each other and never get anywhere closer. Always halfway, almost close, but never there.)

He moves along with Jeremy in rhythm, faster this time around and more along to the beat. The song is almost coming to the end, and Michael bites his lip, thinks  _ screw it _ , and twirls Jeremy around. It catches him off guard, and Michael has to use up all of his strength to make sure that they both don’t topple over. His plan works perfectly because when Jeremy turns back to face him, their faces are closer than ever.

“Hi,” Jeremy whispers, small and soft, and Michael stops himself from melting right there and then. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” Michael says back, a little breathless, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the dancing or because  _ one step closer _ could lead to something  _ more _ , but he’s sure that he’s turning red enough to match the color on his hoodie. He can feel Jeremy’s breath on his skin, and his best friend is still smiling. God, he could light up the whole universe with one grin.  _ Just a little closer _ —

And then it’s over. A blink, a moment, a beat, and it’s gone.

Jeremy is back to being a couple of inches away from him. His cheeks are flushed, but the crooked smile stays. “Hey, uh, thanks for um. Teaching me.”

His smile tugs on his heartstrings like they usually do, but there’s just the tinge of nervousness—almost like he’s got something to lose this time around.

“Yeah, of course,” Michael says, and the heat is rising up on his cheeks. Someone whistles, and Michael turns to see Jake, grinning. He flips him off, only earning more laughter from the other end. 

Another slow song plays and Michael takes a look at Jeremy —who’s shining so brightly right now it makes Michael dizzy, and offers him a hand.

Screw it. He’s doing this.

“If you ever feel like going up for another slow song, I know someone who’d be totally down for it,” Michael says (it takes everything in him not to run away), and he holds his breath while waiting for Jeremy’s response.

A beat passes.

“Okay,” Jeremy says and his smile is wide and stunning. Michael can only grin back as their fingers link once more and they make the dancefloor their own.

And that night, Michael believes that  _ almost _ is sometimes just enough.

 

* * *

 

The week before prom and finals brings in a flurry of stress and panic attacks. It’s not healthy, it’s not okay, but there’s a small moment after, a lull of sorts, that allows Michael to just  _ breathe. _

The last week of high school allows him to relax after years of suffocating; things are turning better for him. College is finally coming, and even though he and Jeremy aren’t going to end up at the same college like they had planned several years before, things were still going to be okay. They could still visit one another, since Michael’s college is only an hour away by car and Jeremy’s is thirty minutes. They’ll pull through—they always do.

And so Michael sits under the stars on Jeremy’s rooftop at two in the morning. He’d stayed the night for one final sleepover of sorts, like a last hurrah before summer, and Jeremy had fallen asleep two hours ago. He couldn’t really think straight with Jeremy sleeping  _ right there _ , so he decided to go up to the rooftop. And getting fresh air was a bonus, too. 

They’re okay.

He remembers the night of the party, when he’d been able to slow dance with Jeremy. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get another chance soon. He remembers Jeremy’s face under the party lights, remembers how soft his eyes had looked, full of warmth and affection. He remembers how close their faces were, remembers thinking of all the possibilities that could have happened.

He remembers the almosts.

But it’s okay, it’s fine, he’s content with what he has, because he’s learned to make almost seem enough, has taught himself how to make the cold seem warm, has stopped himself from thinking about the things that would have never happened. 

It all just seems a little distant now.

Michael stares at the stars and thinks of how the freckles on Jeremy’s cheeks are constellations all on their own. Jeremy’s the Moon, and Michael’s always going to be chasing after him. He’s always going to be halfway there, always going to wait for solar eclipses that are rare enough for him to get desperate. Because Jeremy is bright and the only thing that keeps him from getting lost in his own dark forest—he’s home.

Home is where your heart is, after all.

God, he’s whipped.

“Michael?”

The way Jeremy says his name is enough to make his heart flutter. He’s not supposed to get caught, Jeremy’s supposed to be asleep—

“Are you okay?”

Michael blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just—” Breathe. “I was just about to head back in.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says. He walks over to where Michael sits, plopping down next to him. “Is it okay if we stay out here a bit longer? I was planning to see a shooting star or something.”

“Nerd,” Michael teases playfully. Jeremy smiles a little. His eyes focus back on his fingers, and he pushes up his glasses. “What—what would you wish for?”

Jeremy shrugs. Michael’s not sure, but he can almost see a hint of pink on Jeremy’s cheeks. “It’s stupid.”

Michael nudges him, shoulder to shoulder. “Can’t be any more stupid than that time you wished for oatmeal. Remember? Second grade, it was our first sleepover, I think.”

“Yeah, it was,” Jeremy says. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

Michael snorts. “You don’t forget a ridiculous wish like that, Jeremiah.”

“Shut up, Michaelmiah. And there is nothing wrong with oatmeal. It sustains you,” he replies defensively. Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Like love.”

Michael laughs. “ _ Gago.” _

Jeremy grins as Michael takes his seat across him. “Yeah, but I’m your  _ gago _ .”

“Do you even know what it means?”

“Nope,” Jeremy says. “But I’m sure it means something along the lines of ‘Jeremy, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ Am I right or am I right?”

“Wrong,” Michael says. “And okay, half right. Wrong ‘cause you got the definition wrong and right ‘cause you  _ are _ the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Annoying, yeah, but pretty good.”

Jeremy turns pink, and this time, Michael’s sure of it. “Thanks, man. Really. For everything. You’ve always been there for me, no matter what. Even when I’m acting horribly, you’re still there. You’re the best friend a guy could ask for.”

(And Michael’s starting to think that Jeremy’s only saying these things because it’s two in the morning and the rest of the world is asleep—the words they say tonight will only fade with the stars and the moon. They’ll be gone the moment he wakes up.)

“Anything for my best bro,” Michael says, and a part of his smile is pained, forced, because while he does mean that he’d do anything for this boy, the word ‘friend’ hits a little too close to home.

He realizes it had been a night like this, four years ago, when he’d first figured out he was in love with Jeremy. 

(So maybe some things don’t change, after all.)

They sit in silence for a moment. The cool breeze gently blows through, beckoning a new day to come. It’s nice. 

Then suddenly, Jeremy is tugging at him and pointing to a sky where a shooting star starts burning towards the ground. Michael’s only ever had one wish, anyway.

_ Jeremy. _

It’s silence again after that, but Michael hums a tune under his breath. An old song. The words start spilling out as he stares at the sky. 

“ _ Kung inaakala mo ang pag-ibig ko’y magbabago _ .” Michael feels Jeremy’s shoulder press against his own. It tenses up a bit. He wonders why. “ _ Itaga mo sa bato, dumaan man ang maraming Pasko _ .”   
  


Almost is enough, he repeats it again and again, like a mantra. It’s enough. It has to be. 

“ _ Kahit na di mo na abot ang sahig, kahit na di mo na ko marinig _ .” Michael wonders if Chloe’s right. Her voice echoes through his mind—things are changing, and he wants to at least have a say in it. Things are changing, and he hopes that he and Jeremy will be next. He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment. 

“ _ Ikaw pa rin ang buhay ko _ .”

He sings the last line and results to humming the rest, and the world around him seems to disappear for a bit until it’s just him and Jeremy. 

“Hey, Michael?” Jeremy calls out, nervous.

“Yeah?”

“You’re my favorite person, you know that, right? And I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose?” Jeremy’s voice starts to worry him.

Michael manages to find his voice as the dread settles in his stomach. What for, he’s not sure, but he’s about to find out. “What’s wrong?”

Jeremy shuts his eyes briefly and lets out a small breath. “I just—I recognized the song you were singing and I—” he stops to recollect himself. He exhales. “Do you remember when you gave me your iPod and headphones that one time when I was feeling down?” Jeremy asks him, and of course Michael remembers. It had been a particularly bad day for both of them, that day had marked a year since the Squip incident. “I was scrolling through your playlists, and I—I saw this one playlists labeled with my name and a bunch of hearts and I—”

Michael’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. “Shit.” He’s horrified because now Jeremy  _ knows _ , now he knows what Michael’s been feeling all these years. “You weren’t supposed to see that, you weren’t supposed to see that, you weren’t supposed—”

“No! I mean, uh—it’s okay, I played the songs, and they were, um, not exactly platonic songs and I just figured that—”

“I love you.” 

Jeremy blinks. “I was gonna go for ‘like,’ but that works, too.”

Michael groans and buries his face in his hands. “I had so many plans on how I was gonna tell you, and I can’t believe I just fucking confessed by accident.  _ Putangina _ .”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

He looks up to meet his crush’s eyes. “Really, Jeremy?”

“Okay, so it’s not ideal. But—”

“You don’t have to say it back, Jeremy. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you to love— _ like _ me back.” 

Jeremy takes his hands and squeezes them. “That’s the thing, Michael. I—I do. Like you back. I don’t know if it’s love yet. But I could figure it out. If you wait for me.”

Michael’s world stops spinning for just a moment.

He lets out a shaky breath, a grin spreading across his face, and he laughs—all these years and pent up emotions spilling out, he’s crying and laughing at the same time.

“Are you kidding me? Jeremiah Heere, I’ve waited four years. I think I can wait a little bit longer.” __  
__  
Jeremy laughs and presses Michael’s forehead to his. His eyes shine bright and blue, enough to light a path home. He can’t believe this happening. __  
__  
There’s a space between them that Michael desperately wants to fill in. And so he does. They both do.    
  
Their first kiss is anything but perfect to anyone else. Their teeth get in the way and their noses keep bumping and they keep laughing. But for Michael, it’s just enough.

Jeremy has always been enough. 

When they pull away, Michael holds Jeremy’s hand in his own. 

“Lots of change around here, huh?” Michael says and Jeremy nods. The smile never leaves his face.

He stares up at the view. Lights shine throughout New Jersey, and there’s a soft echo of crickets in the distance. It’s nice and quiet, something Michael has come to realize he takes for granted.

“The view is really something else,” Jeremy says softly. 

He takes a glance at Jeremy and marvels in the revelation that the sight next to him truly is something else. There’s something about the way Jeremy’s lips tug upwards in the ghost of a smile and the freckles dotting his cheeks brighter than any star in that sky that makes Michael melt. 

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Really something.”

And okay, so maybe things are going to change. But a part of him has learned to treasure things as they come, and this is something that he will keep forever. People leave, things change, but Michael knows that Jeremy will stay.

And it’s in that moment that Michael finally understands.

There’s a word in the Filipino language that means love.  _ Pag-ibig.  _ It’s falling headfirst with eyes wide open, opening your arms to embrace the fall. People always say that you can’t choose who you love, that sometimes the heart can’t help who they fall for. 

But this time, Michael knows they’re wrong.

They forget that there’s a word that means you choose who you love.  _ Kapag-ibig.  _ It’s falling headfirst and eyes wide open, knowing  _ exactly _ where you’re headed. It’s knowing that you’re choosing who you love, knowing the repercussions and the pain that 

In that moment, Michael chooses Jeremy. 

And he will continue to choose him over and over and over again, even if love makes him dizzy and makes the world seem like it’ll never stop spinning. He’ll choose him through a thousand lifetimes. He’ll choose Jeremy even after the storm blows over and even after morning rolls around to greet them. He’ll choose Jeremy because he’s fallen for his blue eyes and his bright laugh. He’ll choose Jeremy because of his crooked smile and the way he cares about his friends more than he shows to. He’ll choose Jeremy because he’s Michael’s awkward best friend who stubbornly stuck by his side after all these years. He’ll choose Jeremy because it’s the only thing he’s ever done, it’s the only thing he knows how to do. He’ll choose Jeremy because he’s the only thing Michael has in his life that’s still there for him; the only thing in his life that’s hasn’t changed too much. He’ll choose Jeremy because—

Because he loves him. 

And it’s his choice to do so. Nothing can ever change that. 

Years will come and pass, but Michael will continue to make the same choice over and over again. He chooses to stay. They both do. 

And they stay until dawn breaks and the promise of a sunrise gives them more than they could ever ask for. Things are always going to change, and the sun will always rise.

It won’t be long now.

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
>  _pag-ibig_ \- love (used as a noun)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _mahal kita_ \- i love you
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _ikaw ang kasama buhat noon_ \- you were with me since then
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _ikaw ang pangarap hanggang ngayon_ \- you are my dream until now
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _mahal_ \- love (more used as a verb)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _gago_ \- vulgar word for asshole/jerk
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _kung inaakala mo ang pag-ibig ko’y magbabago_ \- if you think my love for you will change
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _itaga mo sa bato_ \- slash/write it on a stone
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _dumaan man ang maraning Pasko_ \- no matter how many Christmases pass by
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _kahit na di mo na abot ang sahig_ \- even when you can't reach the floor
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _kahit na di mo na ko marinig_ \- even when you can't hear me
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _ikaw pa rin ang buhay ko_ \- you will still be my life
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> SONGS:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [dati](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1llVoFQYoWM) by sam concepcion, tippy dos santos, and quest
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [buko](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRLnB5GrjAs) by jireh lim
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> i really hope you liked it!! feel free to hmu at superishs.tumblr.com!


End file.
